all those people do that. And who the fuck would pay for it anyway?”
“You can’t ask them to stick a q-tip in their mouth? Are you serious? I thought the whole point of this club was brotherhood and family, that we unconditionally back each other up.”
“That’s exactly what it’s about, but—”
“But nothing. Either it’s true or it’s not, and you have a duty to set an example. You’ve been the president for twenty years, fucking act like it.”
Buddha pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. Did the truth piss him off? Tough shit. “Careful, toots,” he warned. “I’m not your man.”
Obviously, but they weren’t all that different either. “Yeah, well, you’re just as pig-headed, so I know asking nicely won’t work. You want me to start sugarcoating shit now?”
He crossed his arms across his chest, but his terse expression warmed a little. “Nah, I like you the way you are.”
“So we have a deal?” I asked.
“Not so fast,” he said, shaking his head. “This deal’s a little one-sided, I’ll need something in return. You wanna play at my level? Let’s go all in.” The way he looked at me suggested he was about to toss out something he knew I wouldn’t like, probably something he assumed I wouldn’t agree to.
He thought he could get me to back down? Good luck. I snickered at the thought of Buddha trying to beat me in a negotiation, especially when his life was on the line. I loved the man too much to be steamrolled. Swiping the bottle of whiskey from his side of the table, I poured both of us another round and got comfortable. “Okay,” I said, my veins properly lubed up with alcohol, “state your position.”
He raised a brow and cocked his head. “I know if this doesn’t work and my fate’s sealed, shit could get real bad at the end. I’ve got no intention of waiting around to die in a hospital bed, shittin’ in a goddamn bag ‘cause I can’t even walk. If it gets to that point, I want you to help me.”
That was it? “Of course I’ll help you,” I assured him. “We’ll all be here to—”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” he interrupted. And then, looking me straight in the eye, he played his actual hand in a single, blunt sentence. “I want you to kill me, Liv.”
It felt like my jaw hit the floor so hard the earth stopped spinning. Did I really just hear him say what I thought he said? “Buddha, that’s fucking insane,” I fumed. “You can’t be serious, how’s that even close to a fair trade-off? The whole point is to save your life.”
“I couldn’t be more serious. Both of my parents died of cancer, I know how brutal those last days can get. And you’re right that I have a duty to this club, I’ve devoted my whole life to living by its code and leading by example. Our constitution says we don’t kill ourselves or brothers in good standing, I can’t do it myself and I sure as shit can’t ask one of my guys to do it either.”
“I would think a terminal illness would be some kind of extenuating circumstance,” I pointed out. But then I realized I was kind of making an argument for putting his request on Torch or one of the other brothers. “Not that I condone your line of thinking,” I added.
“But you get it, right?”
I didn’t say anything. What could I?
“Liv,” he continued, “I know you get it. You’re the smartest and most understanding bitch I know. You’re asking me to go two more weeks of feeling like shit, I’m asking you to shave a couple weeks off the worst of it. I realize it’s nowhere close to being the same, but that’s what it’s gonna take for me to do what you want.”
Frustrated as hell, I got up, took a swig straight from the bottle, and sat down on the corner of his desk. “That’s one hell of a counter offer.”
“I’m an outlaw, baby. Haven’t gotten this far without learning how to get what I want.”
“I see that,” I smirked. “Okay… you have a deal.”
He leaned back in his chair and raised a brow. “What?”
“You have a deal,” I repeated. “If I can’t find you a donor, I’ll help you die.”
“Are you bluffing?” He looked dubious.
“I think I might be calling your bluff. Unexpectedly, judging by the look on your face.”
“This isn’t a battle of the wills, Liv. You agree to this,